Veil of the Vanguard

The words caught in Lena's throat, tumbling over each other as she struggled to speak. Her breaths came quick and shallow, her panic rising like a tide.

Dan raised a hand, his gesture calm but firm, cutting her off.

"Relax," he said, his voice level and cool. "I'm not handing you over. Not yet. But if you want me to trust you, I need to know you're not a danger to anyone."

"No!" Lena's voice cracked, raw and desperate. Her chest tightened painfully, and she shook her head. "You don't understand! I don't want the police to know I'm here. Please… don't call them! Just don't!"

Dan's gaze narrowed, his sharp eyes scanning her as though searching for cracks in her façade.

"And why is that?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual.

"I…" Lena faltered, her mind racing. Tears pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision. "I'm not a criminal. I swear I'm not. But I can't go back to them. I just can't…" Her voice broke on the last word, her arms wrapping tightly around herself as though she could hold her trembling body together.

Killian, standing a step behind Dan, arched an eyebrow and muttered, "She's definitely hiding something."

"I know," Dan replied evenly, his voice a murmur of steel. He took a measured step toward Lena, his imposing presence filling the space between them. His tone softened, though his eyes remained sharp.

"Listen," he said, "I'm giving you a chance to tell me the truth. If you're innocent, there's nothing to fear. But if you keep running and refusing to explain, I'll have no choice but to assume the worst."

Lena's head snapped up, her tear-streaked eyes locking onto his.

"I'm not dangerous," she blurted out. "I'm not—" The words died on her lips as her thoughts spiraled.

'If I tell him the truth, he'll think I'm insane!'

Dan's gaze didn't waver. "

Then prove it," he said, his voice steady, his expression unreadable.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she wrestled with her thoughts. Trusting him felt impossible. How could she, when the truth about her—about this world—was so incomprehensible? And yet, something about Dan's calm, unwavering demeanor made her doubt her instincts.

"I… need time," she whispered at last, her voice barely audible.

Dan studied her for a long moment before giving a single nod.

"You've got until tommorow morning."

Lena's stomach dropped. Morning? That wasn't enough time. Not to make a decision this monumental. How could she possibly explain to Dan that his world and every thing in it, his entire existence, was a construct—a work of fiction created by her father? He wasn't real, and yet here he stood: solid, flesh and blood, commanding and undeniably alive.

She swallowed hard, the weight of her thoughts threatening to crush her.

'He can't find out from me...' she decided.

Even if he somehow uncovered the truth on his own, it couldn't come from her lips.

Interrupting her spiraling thoughts, Dan's voice broke through.

"I've called someone to look after you until this is sorted out," he said briskly. "She'll help you settle in."

Before Lena could respond, a knock sounded at the door. Dan stepped aside, and an elegant woman in her mid-fifties entered. She carried herself with quiet confidence, her warm smile a stark contrast to Dan's guarded demeanor.

"This is Mrs. Elsie Whitmore," Dan introduced. "She handles my household affairs."

Elsie stepped forward, her gaze softening as she took in Lena's disheveled appearance. "Oh, you poor thing," she said kindly. "Don't you worry, my dear. I'll take good care of you."

Lena offered a hesitant nod, her voice caught somewhere between gratitude and lingering fear. "Thank you," she murmured.

Elsie's smile widened. "Come along, dear. Let's get you settled."

With one last uncertain glance at Dan, Lena followed Elsie out of the room, her heart pounding as though she were walking into yet another unknown.

They went into a bedroom that took her breath away. The room was spacious and bathed in natural light. A grand four-poster bed with silky white linens and gold accents stood in the center.

Plush rugs covered the gleaming hardwood floors, and a chandelier of crystal and brass hung elegantly from the ceiling. Across from the bed, a seating area with a cream-colored sofa and a glass coffee table overlooked the city skyline through expansive windows.

Mrs. Elsie gestured toward a door on the left.

"The bathroom is through there, dear. You'll find everything you need—fresh towels, toiletries, and even a heated floor."

Lena peeked inside and gasped.

The bathroom was nothing short of luxurious. A freestanding marble bathtub sat near a window with a stunning view of the city, while a walk-in shower with rainfall fixtures gleamed in the corner. A double vanity with gold-trimmed mirrors completed the opulent look.

"Take your time to freshen up," Mrs. Elsie encouraged. "I'll bring something comfortable for you to wear."

After soaking in the warm bath and scrubbing away the grime of her harrowing day, Lena emerged feeling cleaner and lighter, wrapped in a soft robe she found hanging in the bathroom.

True to her word, Mrs. Elsie had laid out a dress for her—a flowy, pale pink gown made of soft, breathable fabric that felt like a dream against her skin.

"You look beautiful, dear," Mrs. Elsie said warmly when Lena stepped out of the dressing room.

"Thank you," Lena replied shyly, her voice still tinged with unease.

"Now, let's see about some food," the older woman said, her smile widening.

It wasn't until Mrs. Elsie mentioned food that Lena's stomach growled audibly, startling them both. Embarrassed, she placed a hand over her abdomen. It occurred to her that she hadn't eaten in what felt like hours—but in this world, an entire week had passed.

Mrs. Elsie soon returned with a large tray laden with food. The spread was unlike anything Lena had seen before.

There was a plate of golden, flaky pastries, a bowl of creamy soup, slices of perfectly roasted meat, steamed vegetables glistening with butter, a fresh green salad, and a basket of warm bread rolls. A selection of juices accompanied the feast, including orange, apple, and a bright pink drink Mrs. Elsie called "berry delight."

"You must be starving," Mrs. Elsie said, placing the tray on the coffee table in the sitting area.

Lena hesitated, her gaze flickering over the array of food before her. The rich aromas wafting up were undeniably enticing, and everything looked so real—almost too real. Yet, unease churned in her stomach.

This was a fictional world, after all, and by extension, so was the food. What if eating it had unintended consequences? Could it affect her in some strange, unpredictable way? The thought made her chest tighten, but the gnawing hunger in her stomach refused to be ignored.

"Go on, dear," Mrs. Elsie urged, sensing her hesitation. "It's good, I promise."

Tentatively, Lena picked up a piece of bread and nibbled at the corner. Her eyes widened as the flavor hit her—a perfect balance of softness and crunch, with a buttery richness that melted on her tongue.

She tried a spoonful of soup next, then a bite of the roasted meat. One taste turned into another, and before she knew it, she was devouring the meal with abandon.

By the time she drained the last glass of berry delight juice, she was sprawled on the lounge sofa, sighing in relief and satisfaction.

Mrs. Elsie chuckled softly as she cleared the empty tray.

"You were hungrier than you realized," she said, her tone fond.

Lena mumbled a sleepy thank-you, her eyelids growing heavy. Exhaustion from the day's events—and the week of chaos before that—finally caught up with her. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

After clearing the table, Elsie took one last look at the sleeping girl on the lounge sofa with a smile and left.

Moments later, a faint shimmer rippled through the air near the doorway. Glowing words materialized—"To be continued…"—hovering briefly before a swirling white light flooded the space, enveloping everything in its radiant glow...

***

Mrs. Elsie returned to Dan's office, where he was reviewing documents on his tablet.

"She's resting now," the caretaker reported. "Poor girl was exhausted. She ate well and fell asleep shortly after."

Dan nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Thank you, Elsie. If she wakes up, let me know.

Nodding once, Elsie excused herself, leaving Dan alone.

Later that evening, Dan went to work out in his private gym. The space was a blend of sleek modernity and masculine design, with state-of-the-art equipment and mirrored walls.

Dressed in loose black joggers and no shirt, he began his usual routine, lifting heavy weights with ease. His muscles flexed with each movement, his chiseled physique glistening with a light sheen of sweat under the overhead lights.

Dan's focus was unwavering as he worked through his sets. He had a well sculpted body, every line and curve honed to perfection through years of discipline.

The sound of the gym door opening interrupted his session. Killian entered, his usual calm demeanor replaced by urgency.

"Dan," Killian said, his voice tense.

Dan set down the weights and grabbed a towel, slinging it over his shoulder.

"What is it?"

"It's the girl," Killian began, his expression grim. "She's gone."

Dan's brows furrowed.

"What do you mean, gone?"

"She's not in her room anymore. We've checked the entire suite and the surrounding premises. It's like she vanished into thin air… again."